Let It All Go
by Isolation Shepherd
Summary: Prompt: Abby gives a tense Marcus a massage In this fic we have a mostly-naked Marcus, an oiled-up Abby and the holy curl. What's not to love? Happy Birthday to the amazing and talented Suvi (@supsi85) - the most generous, kind and awesome person you could wish to meet.


It was after two in the morning when Abby was finally able to clean up after a busy day in Medical. She stood at the industrial sink, arms soaped up to the elbows, washing equipment before she sterilised it ready for later that day. She'd let Jackson leave early. There was no point both of them being up late. She heard the creak of the door as it opened but didn't look around.

"Have you forgotten something Jackson?"

"It's not Jackson, it's me."

She turned to see Marcus Kane standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed, lips slightly parted, shoulders hunched. It wasn't cold in the station, even though it was early morning, but he was dressed for the outdoors in black leather jacket and canvas trousers. The jacket was unzipped, showing his usual grey t-shirt beneath.

Abby grabbed a towel to dry her hands as she looked at him; he seemed worried. "What are you doing up so late? Has something happened?"

Marcus sighed and shook his head. "Nothing new at least. I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd take a walk and I saw the light on in here."

He took a few steps into the room and winced as he did so, placing his hand on his back, massaging the muscle.

Abby moved towards him. "Are you hurt? You're holding your back."

Marcus waved his hand in dismissal. "It's nothing, just a twinge."

"Is that what has stopped you from sleeping? Here, let me take a look at it." She gestured for him to go over to the examining table but he didn't move.

"It's not the back that's keeping me awake, although it isn't helping. It's just… I spoke with Bellamy earlier and I can't get the conversation out of my head. I'm worried about him. He's really under Pike's spell. He's so sure that he's right, that what they're doing is right. They killed those innocent Grounders, Abby, and he's completely okay with it. I fear there's no coming back from that. We've lost him."

Abby was concerned to hear Marcus talking like this. He was taking Bellamy's decision to side with Pike personally. He felt they had finally started to connect but when the boy needed Marcus most, when he should have turned to him for guidance and counselling, he had turned instead to Pike.

"Hey," she said, stroking his arm. "I know someone else who was once lost because of the things he'd done, the lives weighing on his conscience. Who felt the only way to atone for his sins was to sacrifice himself. You can't give up, Marcus. He needs you. He just doesn't know it yet."

Marcus covered her hand with his, squeezing her fingers. He gave her a half-smile. "Perhaps. He's too far away from me right now, though. I can't reach him."

"You will. Give it time."

Marcus let go of her hand and stepped back, his face a picture of frustration. "Time is one thing we don't have." He looked around then, as though he was seeing the room for the first time. His eyes took in the water-filled sink, the unwashed equipment.

"I'm keeping you up. I'll let you get on with your work. You must be tired." He turned and his back must have pained him again because she heard him suck air between his teeth.

"Please let me look at you, Marcus. It's probably nothing but I'd feel happier if I checked you over."

"There's really no need."

Abby didn't know why he was so reluctant to let him examine her. It's not as though she hadn't cared for him on numerous occasions when he'd been injured.

"If it's a torn muscle you're only going to make it worse by leaving it untreated. Come here, let me see."

He turned back and walked slowly over to her. She lifted his worn grey t-shirt up. "Show me where it hurts the most."

Marcus pointed to a spot on the right side of his lower back. "This is where the pain seems to be concentrated."

She bent her head to see the area better. There was no obvious external bruising. He stood still as she ran her hands over his skin, lightly at first. He was lean with little body fat and she could easily feel the muscles beneath. She pressed gently and he winced again.

"There?" she asked.

"Yes. It feels tender when you touch it."

"I'm going to have to press harder, to feel what's going on. Do you remember hurting it, did you hear any popping or feel anything give?"

"I don't recall injuring it at all. It seemed to start a couple of days ago and it hasn't got worse but it hasn't got better either."

She manipulated the area, probing the muscles with her fingers. There was no swelling.

"Ow!"

"Sorry! I don't think there's any deep tissue damage. It's possible that it's tension. I can feel knots in your muscles. I could see it when you walked. You're holding it all in your shoulders and it's putting pressure on your back, making you use your muscles differently. That's what's making you ache." She let the t-shirt drop, smoothing it down.

"I probably just need to get some sleep."

"That won't help. If anything it will make it worse if you lie down when you're in pain like this. What you need is a massage. That will ease the strain on your muscles, help you relax."

Marcus shook his head. "Oh, I don't know about that Abby. I'll be fine."

Abby had expected some resistance to her suggestion. In her experience men always said no to a massage at first, as though it was some kind of female-only activity they shouldn't take part in. That was until they had one, then they couldn't get enough. "Shut up and let me help you, Marcus. You can undress while I get a clean sheet for the table."

"Undress?" Marcus looked surprised and apprehensive.

"You don't expect me to massage you through your leather jacket, do you? It needs to be skin to skin to do any good. You can keep your underwear on. For now." She added the last words just to get a reaction from him. His eyebrows shot up and his dark eyes grew wide. She smiled and shook her head. Men, they were all the same.

She shook the sheet out over the table and it settled gently over the cushioned surface. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he eased his jacket off and hung it over the back of her chair. His back flexed as he tugged the collar of his t-shirt up and pulled it over his head, shoulder blades standing out like sharp peaks on his slim back. He turned slightly to fold the shirt and place it on the chair. She didn't want him to catch her watching so she busied herself smoothing the sheet out. She didn't see him take his black canvas pants off but when she turned around he was standing there, clad only in his grey boxers, hands folded protectively in front. He really was handsome, slim and toned, the muscles defined right down to his lower abs which were visible because his boxers hung low on his hips. He must be naturally fit because she never saw him work out. He suited the longer hair with its waves and sun-tinted highlights. The beard was a relatively new feature, fuller than it had ever been and on the verge of running wild. It framed his face, gave his eyes an added intensity, as if they weren't penetrating enough. Abby had wilted beneath that gaze many times, not always in a pleasant way.

Abby dragged her eyes away and tapped the sheet. "Up you get. Lie on your front please. I'll get the oil."

She often had to massage the injured limbs or pulled muscles of Arkadia's citizens so she had made up her own oil containing arnica she'd found growing on the plains near the camp. It had a pleasant smell and helped the muscles heal.

As she turned back to the examining table she saw Marcus had settled himself down on it. His head was pillowed on his folded arms. He was watching her.

She smiled reassuringly. "Can you put your arms down at your side for me?"

He did as she asked and she warmed up some oil between her hands.

"I'm going to start lightly and then increase the pressure as you start to warm up. It needs to hurt a little but if it gets too much, let me know."

She stood to the left of him and he turned his head that way so he could watch her. It was disconcerting having those dark eyes boring into her but she ignored it and set to work.

She rubbed the flat of her hands in a figure of eight motion over his back, starting at his shoulder blade and running across his lower back, down to the waistband of his boxers and back up the other way. His skin was warm, the soft flesh pliable beneath her fingers. For a man with a lot of hair on his head and face he had surprisingly little on his body. His back was completely smooth. The only hair she'd seen was a delicate trail of fine down that led from his chest to below his stomach. Abby didn't dwell too long on how much further that hair went. This was not that kind of massage!

"How does that feel?"

He let out a small sigh. "It feels good."

Abby laughed. "Well, hang on to that feeling because it's going to get a little more intense."

She massaged the oil into his back, firm gliding strokes up over the shoulder and back down again. Marcus let out a sound like an "ah" as her fingers stroked the back of his neck.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's, kind of ticklish there. Nice though."

"You're sensitive there then," she said.

"It would appear so," replied Marcus.

"It's no surprise. There's a hollow in your neck, everyone has it, that ancient people believed is connected to other parts of your body. There are a number of these pressure points, particularly in your hands and feet. There's no direct physical connection. It's more like an energy channel."

She located the area and pressed very lightly with her finger.

"Can you feel that?"

"Uh huh."

"If I were to really press my fingers into this point and rub it, you may get sensations in other parts of your body that are not physically connected with this part of your neck."

"Are you going to do that?"

Abby smiled. "It's probably best that I don't. In men, the effect can, well…" She trailed off, hoping he wouldn't make her say it.

He lifted his head so he could see her more clearly and looked at her for what seemed an eternity. His eyes were unreadable. A curl of dark hair flopped into his eye and Abby felt a frisson of electricity run up her arms as if it were flowing from his body to hers. She was flummoxed in the silence that passed between them, unsure of what was happening. What if he wanted her to do it? Would she? Where would that lead?

"Probably for the best then," he finally mumbled, and rested his head back on the table.

Abby felt relief tinged with something she thought might be regret. She was starting to wish she'd never suggested this massage now. She and Marcus had a complex relationship, one that was possibly heading in a new direction, but she wasn't sure. He was a closed book when it came to personal feelings. Sometimes, she was positive there was something more between them. It was in the way he held her gaze a fraction too long, or used any excuse to touch her, create a physical connection. Then at other times he was pure business, frustrated with her because they had different ideas about how to deal with the Grounders, and Pike. In Polis he said they were in this together, but what kind of together?

She decided she had to stop thinking and keep this moment light and professional otherwise she was never going to get through this massage.

"It's not science, of course," she continued. Most doctors don't believe in energy channels or meridians as they're sometimes called. It's more likely that a release of endorphins triggers feelings of pain relief, or pleasure."

She got more oil and leant in to use her body weight to increase the pressure of her hands on his back. There was silence for a couple of minutes while she concentrated on kneading his tired muscles. She switched to a different stroke, running her hands straight up the left side of his back and round the shoulder.

She didn't want to break the peace by speaking but she had to forewarn him as the next step was going to hurt if it was to cure.

"I'm going to use my knuckles now to really get into the muscles and undo those knots, okay," she whispered.

"Okay," he replied. "I'm ready."

Abby bunched her fist and did a series of firm gliding strokes up his back pushing down into the muscles, working close to his spine and around the shoulder blades. She grabbed the shoulder muscle between fingers and thumb and kneaded it firmly.

Marcus jumped. "Ow! That hurts!"

"I know, I'm sorry, but you are carrying most of your tension in the shoulders. These knots are tough. You're not fully relaxing. Let yourself go, Marcus. Let it all go. Until you do that, you're never going to ease the pain."

"I don't think I can. It's not something I've ever been good at."

She moved to the other side so she could massage the right side of his body. He turned his head so he could watch her again. The curl flopped into his eye and he blinked to try to get it to move. Without thinking she leaned forward and brushed it away, but it settled back again.

"This curl," she said, smiling. "It doesn't want to behave. I may have to pin it back."

"Don't you dare," he said, smiling at her with such affection in his eyes it took her by surprise and her heart skipped a beat.

She looked away from him quickly, her throat suddenly constricted, her mouth dry. She avoided his eyes and used her oily hand to stick the errant curl to the rest of his hair.

"That's better," she said, finding her voice. "You need a haircut. You're becoming unruly."

"In more ways than one," he laughed. "Would you prefer it short and slicked back like it was on the Ark?"

Abby didn't need to think about that for long. "No," she said. "That was a different Marcus."

"Yes," he said. "It seems like a long time ago, another life."

"You know you don't have to take all these problems on yourself. Bellamy, Octavia, Pike. You can share them with me."

"You have enough on your plate, Abby."

"We're in this together, aren't we? Let me be your partner in this. Let me help you."

Marcus sighed deeply. "I don't want you to get hurt. This is going to get nasty."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know that. But I'm already putting so many people at risk. Lincoln, Miller, Harper. I'm in constant fear we're going to be exposed."

"And what's why you're so tense all the time. You can at least talk to me. Share the burden. If you don't, then we'll have to make these massages a regular event."

He settled back down on the table and closed his eyes. "That's no bad thing," he murmured.

Abby stroked the side of his face, from the furrow of his brow to the scar on his bottom lip, fingertips tracing the line of his rough beard. It was an indulgence she had no right to, but he didn't complain. He hummed a small sigh. "Abby."

"Ssh," she whispered. "Just relax. Trust me."

She could barely hear his reply. "I do trust you."

She repeated the strokes she'd done previously, smooth figure of eight motions, firm kneading with her knuckles, working her fingers deeply into the tight knot of muscle in his lower back where it hurt the most.

It was so quiet at this time of night she could hear his steady breathing, his soft sighs and moans as the tension gradually left his body with every stroke of her hands.

She got into a rhythm as she worked his back, lost herself a little in the soothing motions of her hands and the ripples she was making in his skin as she stretched and loosened his muscles. She was surprised then when he spoke in a voice that was low enough to give her goosebumps.

"You feel so good, Abby."

She paused, not quite knowing how to answer that. Not "it" feels good, but "you" feel good.

She decided to play it light. "Magic hands," she said.

"They are. Magic. Miracle hands." His words were slurred, his voice sleep-heavy.

Abby grabbed a towel to wipe the oil from her hands. "I think you're ready for bed. Do you want to try walking around, see how it feels?"

"I'd rather stay here."

"This table isn't meant for sleeping on. It will just undo all my hard work. Come on, let me help you down."

He turned over gingerly and sat up. He swung his legs over the edge of the table and she helped him down. His legs gave way slightly and she put her arm round him to steady him.

"Woah," he said.

"That's because your muscles are completely relaxed. I think I've done a good job."

"I think you have." He stood by himself, walked over to the chair where his clothes were lying. He touched the sore part of his back. "It feels tender to touch still but the pain is considerably less."

"It will feel tender. I've had my knuckles pounding away at it for nearly half an hour."

She watched him as he dressed. His movements were much more fluid than when he walked in earlier. There was more work to do, but they'd made a good start. She was pleased with the result.

When he was fully dressed he looked at her. "Can we do this again? Maybe make it a regular thing?"

"Consider it a prescription. Take one massage once a week or as often as needed."

He smiled and headed towards the door. He paused as he opened it, and turned around.

"Abby?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

She nodded and he left, closing the door behind him. She sat in her chair for a moment, thinking over the last half hour. What was she going to do with him, this complicated, deep-thinking man? If these massages were a way for him to connect with her, to share his burden without involving her in his rebel plans then so be it. She decided one thing for certain, though. On his next visit, she was going to start teaching him some of the tricks, so that one day he might return the favour.


End file.
